(OOC: lol nice, I was thinking of doing something like this myself, but couldn't work it out properly. I'll enter the character I was thinking of^^)

Ahasuerus-Romwell-Knight-Knight-Baldrick-Winterbottom-Maxwell-Jones-Stevenson the Forty-Fifth (known as Ahas to everyone else) wondered down the street looking somewhat bored. He was the city's president (and in fact the city's only representative) of the Liegon of Ludicrously Lengthy Loquacions, an ancient order that prided themselves on being experts at small-talk and rediculously lengthy and meaningless speeches. Unfortunately though there was little need of his unusual talents in this city, and so most of the time he was unemployed.

He was an Elf, standing seven-foot-two and a tin of spam, and as thin as a rake. His long white hair dropped down to his shoulders, straight as a ruler, covering his long pointed ears. He wore the ornate robes of his order, black and putple, richly decorated with gold embroidery. As he stepped down the road, most people gave him a wide berth, not wanting to start him off on a conversation at all cost!

"I say, this is a markedly unfortunate and somewhat depressing and unusually unusual sorrowful state of affairs." he muttered to himself as he walked. "Tis a curious, unremarkable, suprising, and downright shocking revelation and descovery that the beuty and majesty and overt wonder of a perfectly constructed and expertly contrived and superbly moulded sentance structure such as I am merticulously trained to provide is considered with considerable distain and scorn and anger in such a lush and cultured city as this one so readilly appars to be."

Suddenly he heard a noise up above him, and looked up in alarm. A massive Dragon was flying through the air, firing bursts of flame into parts of the city as it passed! Ahas jumped with excitement and began to wring his hands. "What ho, this is a remarkably lucky and expertly-timed break that could only hav been caused by supernatural forces beond the relm of our conception manipulating events to occur so perfectly in my favour!" he exclaimed. "Now is my chance to use my wonderfully crafted and artfully contived gifts in such a brilliant and wonderful way as to prove my invaluable worth to the frightened inhabitants of this quaint and fair city!"

As the Dragon swooped round and began coming back across the rooftops, he took a firm stand in the center of the main street and raised his finger in the classic Liegon of Ludicrously Lengthy Loquacions speech pose. "Ahoy, avast and a moment my reptillian cold-blooded friend! I would take this oppertunity to speak, talk and converse with you on the reasons and causes of your curious anger and apparent angst against the noble citizens of this beutiful town. If I may be so bold, brave and heroic, I would make a request and ask favour of yourself that I may inquire as to the nature of your cunning, ruthless and rather visious attack that you are..."

The Dragon paused for a moment, looking down at him from it's position high in the air, then suddenly swooped down and hit him with it's tail, sending him flying backwards into a shop desplay of loaves of bread shaped straingely like the State of Arizona.

"Oh my goodness gratious me!" he muttered as he extracted himself from the dough treats. "That was a most unimaginable, unexpected and unfortunate turn of events!"

(OOC: Let me know if anything needs changing. Don't worry, as we get into the story I'll tone down his speeches somewhat lol. This is purposefully extended just to give you an idea of what he's like.^^)

OOC: No, nothing needs changing. Keep it up!

IC: "C'mon, c'mon!" Barry frantically searched through the books. One of them had to contain something that could stop a dragon. Hadn't he been carrying Naugok Dimsoor's 'How a young apprentice can stop dragons', or at least Iftish Nostris' 'Ways to eliminate mythical beasts'?
A search indicated that no, he had not. One reason for this might have been because they did not, in fact, exist.
It was a pretty macabre thing to do, but he searched through the ashes of his former master. Neatly arranging them into a plastic wallet, he was delighted to find that Ramford's notebook had survived. Thank goodness it was made of malanite paper, the most indestructable paper known to wizardkind.
Ramford had mentioned a Destructus spell could stop the dragon. So all he had to do was look through the notebook and find out how to cast one. Simple.
"Alright you giant, scaly monstrosity, prepare to feel the full fury of a wizard's....apprentice wizard's wrath!" Barry cried towards the dragon.
He was surprised to see the dragon stop in mid-flight, then turn back towards him. Fear prevented him from running away when the dragon landed in front of him.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
Barry's eyes widened. "Um, I said, and don't feel that you have to take any notice of it mind you, that if it would please such a large, and I mean that only in the sense that you are tall of course, because it's not as if you're overweight or anything, and beautifully scaled might I add, reptillian creature such as yourself to possibly feel the full fury, which is in no way directed at yourself obviously, of a mere apprentice, and not even a successful one at that, wizard's, um, mild discomfort?"
The dragon seemed to be considering something. Barry just hoped it wasn't thinking about whether to have him raw or crispy.
"Alright."
"Please no! Spare this pitiful wretch who...wait, what?"
"I said 'alright'. I've never been attacked by an apprentice wizard before. It might be fun."
"Oh, of course!" said Barry quickly. "Yes, lots of fun. Now, if you'll just excuse me while I open this notebook."
Barry opened the cover of the notebook. It immediately snapped shut. Barry tried again, this time holding the cover as far away from the book as possible. The book lunged at his face and snapped at his nose. In surprise, he pulled the back away from his face and threw it to the floor, jumping up and down on it. He then noticed the dragon staring at him.
"Ah, it appears that my former master, who you were so wise in torching by the way, has left a spell on the book and thus rendered me unable to open it. Um...sorry?" Barry smiled weakly.
"Pity. Oh well, it was amusing to watch you try. Goodbye"
With that the dragon flicked his claw at Barry, sending him flying backwards into a merchant's cart, and took once more to the skies.
"Nicely done, sir," said Barry, briefly losing all knowledge of where he was.

As Ahas stood up from the bread display, brushing crumbs out of his hair, he spied another figure in a somewhat similar preadicament further down the road. To reach him he would have to pass the city's Central Square, and the large fountain that dominated the area.

"I say, I do believe I may have found, descovered and otherwise come across a kindred spirit of a soul that seems to share an unusual resemblence to myself in the format and situation of his misfortune!" he muttered to himsalf. "I should immeadeately, quickly and without further ado sally forth, move over and head towards him and greet the noble gentleman in our shared misexperience! Perhaps, maybe and possibly he may have an idea or possibillity as to our predicament and problem that we may be able to put into operation and execute!"

He quickly moved forward, running round the fountain in the square and heading for the figure lay on the merchant's cart.

"Good day, hello, greetings and salutations to you, my brave and noble friend, kindred spirit and strong-willed warrior!" he called as he ran. "I was fortunate enough to witness, see and observe your brave, selfless act of confidence that you just..."

At this point a large woman in long skirts came running out of one of the sidestreets, panicing from the attack, and blundered straight into the advancing Elf, bowling him over and knocking him backwards into the large fountain. He landed with a splash, his long robes and white hair getting thoroughly drenched by the water.

Y'iglastharha, a member of the cult of Gizorbulon, was walking cultily through the streets of the city, warning people of the rising of Gizorbulon from the center of the Earth. Nobody paid him, nor any of the other cult members, much attention at all, mostly because any logical creature smarter than a snail knows that stories of ancient indestructible alien death gods which would rise from their resting places and consume all of humanity in madness and despair were all rubbish fairy-tales told to scare children. The regulars down at the Cthulhu's head pub just called him 'Yig' for short and paid him as little mind as everyone else did. His given birth name was not actually Y'iglastharha, in fact it was Norbert Birchwood, but when he grew up and began dabbling in the occult he decided that Y'iglastharha sounded decidedly more evil and subsequently changed his name. He had roughly as much magical skill as a rediculously incompetent wizard, which was still saying a lot. The cult, of course, beleived that when all the celestial bodies were lined up exactly, right, 1000 members of the cult would have to perform an ancient arcane ritual to resurrect the dread god Gizorbulon upon the world. Currently, however, there were exactly forty-three and one-half member, so the cult had a far ways to go in terms of recruitment.

But anyway, on to the issue at hand. The dragon, and all that. Yig(as he will be known fron now forward, except when others are adressing him for the first time, because I can't be bloody bothered to type his name every time I mention him) was interrupted mid-preaching by a burst of fire from behind some building up ahead. His natural curiosity overcame his natural cowardice and he began running toward the source of the fireball. As he rounded the corner, he came to a stop just in time to see a wizard being roasted from the sky by the dragon, and automatically turned around and began running the other way, until he realized that that was the way the dragon was headed. At this point, he overturned a cart selling fruit and hid under it, shivering. He thought back to his teaching at the academy for wizards, magicians, sages, and other practitioners of the occult arts, where he had been taught that dragons, while intelligent enough to speak the language of humans, were very superstitious and gullible, and thus likely to beleive any story they were told. Or was that Griffins...? This was yet another time he wished he had paid more attention in school rather than goofing off doing things like getting loaded bloody drunk and letting all the centaurs out of their pens. He crawled out from under the apple cart and began running in the direction the dragon took off in. He might have been the only thing standing between the city and utter burnination. When at last he had reached the area where the dragon was, He yelled 'STOP!' as loud as he could in his most commanding voice, and the dragon turned to face him. 'What is it now? It's getting to the point where I can't level a city without being harassed by a whole bunch of weirdos...'
'I, foul beast, am a devout follower of the cult of Gizorbulon. I am well versed in the dark arts and, as a cultist, If you do not promptly leave this city I will summon the Dread death god Gizorbulon upon thee and all your kin!'

He held his breath. If his hunch was right, then the result would be a stunning and unexpected victory. In the far more likely instance that it was wrong, the result would be a horrible agonizing fiery death.
He waited.

Barry, now fully revived from his experience with the dragon (thank goodness he'd had the fortune to land in a cart of smelling salts), went over to the elf who had been talking to him and pulled him out of the fountain.
"You alright?" he asked.
"Oh my, I suppose so, in my opinion at least, which, while not that of a professional, is certainly, and without a doubt, capable of identifying any errors, mistakes, problems or more with my own health, physically, mentally or spiritually, and in fact, whatsmore, at any rate this kind of accident, calamity or attack, happens all the time, or at least is becoming more more frequent, repetitive and worringly patternlike."
Barry blinked at the talkative elf. "Oh," he said. "Alright then."
"My good man, dear fellow, and kind sir, did you happen to see, observe, notice and trace our tormentor, attacker, raider and foe to his current and present whereabouts, that is to say, his location?"
"What, the dragon?" asked Barry. "Yeah, he's talking to some guy over there."

Yig stared at the dragon, waiting for it to make its move.
"No no no. That's not right at all."
"Sorry?"
"You're a cultist, correct?"
"Yeah."
"Well why aren't you holding your sacred symbol up at me? Where's the chanting masses? Why aren't you demanding I become your servant in the name of...who was it you said?"
"Gizorbulon."
"Right, Gizorbulon. Honestly, cults today, no sense of tradition. I've been faced by quite a few cultists before, young man, and let me tell you something. Back in those days we did things properly. Why, in all my years of wanton destruction I've never seen such shoddy cultwork. Not like the greats of yesteryear, no sir..."

"I think he's got it distracted. Hopefully he'll stop it long enough for us to destroy it," said Barry.
"My dear sir, fellow and new companion in dragon slaying, what do you think, suggest, or otherwise..."
"Ramford said a Destructus spell would stop it," Barry interrupted. "Unfortunately I don't know how to do one. The spell's in this book, but I can't open it. We need someone with some magic," he sighed.
"Sorry, I've just realised, we haven't been introduced," he said suddenly. "I'm Barrold, Barrold Gumdru, but most people call me Barry. Well, that's the politest thing they call me anyway."
"Ah, a nickname, a term of endearment, a shortened form of a name to simplify pronunciation," said the elf. "I too, also, as well have a nickname in Ahas, which abbreviates, and is short for, Ahasuerus-Romwell-Knight-Knight-Baldrick-Winterbottom-Maxwell-Jones-Stevenson the Forty-Fifth, president, and in fact only actual representative in the city of Nestig, of the Leigon of Ludicrously Lengthy Loquacions, an organisation that prides itself in..."
"Talking a lot. Yeah, I gathered. Think that guy knows anything?" asked Barry, pointing at the guy in front of the dragon.

Rueben leapt for the roof above the chatterbox elf and the apprentice wizard and missed, toppling down to the cobbles below, landing in a disgruntled heap he quickly leapt up and slicked back his now slightly ruffled hair.
"Fear not good citizens, for I, Reuben the um...never mind my given title, will smite this scaley fiend with my mighty marksman skills, and behold!" He produced his bow with a flourish and knocked an arrow and aimed majestically before firing, he released it majestically and they all watched its majestic flight into the fountain. Ignoring the looks of onlookers he knocked another one, this time it rebounded off a stone wall and nearly hit Reuben, instead it shot off his hat and pinned it to the sign of a drunken boar.
Reuben was aware that he looked a rather odd spectacle, dressed in green with tights, a light tunic and a funny pinned hat with a red feather, and his untidy black hair, it was obvious what he was, a Robin Hood fanatic, and a bad one at that.
"Okay, um...well, I'm still willing to help but you see the, ur...wind is um...pushing my arrows out of course." As the few people around tested for any sign of a wind they shrugged when they discovered there was none, and most people went back to panicking.
"Well, I'd better introduce myself properly, I am Reuben Galamaen, more commonly known in some towns as Reuben the-lousy-marksmen. But just becuase of this name it does NOT mean that I am in fact, as my naem states, a lousy marksman."

"Oh come off it, my Grandma can shoot better than that and she doesn't even have any hands!" Surprising everyone an odd creature came out of the shadows of a building.
"Yes I'm a werewolf, and YES it is daylight, there is NO moon, so stop looking you idiots," she was talking to a grocer and a baker who were both looking at the sky with intense concentration.
Before them was a tall eight foot five being with a humanoid appearance, but with the usual werewolf looks like wolf head and cothered in varying shades of grey fur, which was rather thick and cuddly. She had a tail and large white teeth and sharp pointy claws and fluffy ears which were pointy but couldalso be fun to play with and stroke (if you got close enough to do that).
"I'm terribly sorry, how rude of me, I'm Selenus Etros Edros Aros, lot of ros's here, ankerosenodaer. Or just Lena for short, all those who are too busy staring to remember my full title."
Several people were still staring,
"Oh stop it, didn't you know staring is rude? Oh yes, I'd keep your distance, I have fleas."
She scratched herself behind her ears with her arm to prove her point.
"So, an elf, an apprentice and a Robin Hood wanna be, and you intend to kill a dragon I presume? Or at least get rid of it? I'd love to help! It might give me a better reputation and I might be allowed into more cities."
TBC
OOC: Hope that's okay. This looks fun(ny).

"Well I must say this is quite an unusual, remarkable and downright strainge day to be out walking, enjoying the views, the atmospheres and the happenings of this town." exclaimed Ahas. "I must say that..."

At this point a horse that was secured to a fence further down the road managed to slip it's rope. It had been thoroughly paniced by the Dragon's appearence, and immeadeately set off running in a frenzy, blundering blindly into Ahas and knocking him backwards through a large window in one of the shops nearby.

"Say..." muttered Barry as he watched the horse run off, "...that happens to you a lot doesn't it!"

"Indeed it is unfortunately true." replied Ahas, picking himself up and dusting himself off. "It has been noted that entry into the Liegon of Ludicrously Lengthy Loquations curiously and inexplicably coencides with an increased tendancy for strainge and unusual events to cause one to be knocked backwards. It affects myself and all of my brave kindred."

"Well," said Barry, looking at the team assorted before him, "It looks like we're getting quite a team. An apprentice wizard, a loquacious elf, a werewolf and a marksman, albeit a bad one."
"Hey!"
"Sorry. Right, well I'm sure if we work together we can stop this dragon. Ooh, speaking of which, better have a look," Barry turned towards the aformentioned dragon.

"...None of this newfangled 'unexpected hero' nonsense either. No, back then you either looked the part or you weren't the part. A hero was part of nobility then, not some assistant pig keeper..."
"Will you shut up and let me summon the Dread death god Gizorbulon already?"
"In a minute. Goodness me, how impatient young folk are nowadays. No respect for their elders. Not like in my day, where..."

"I think it's safe to assume he's not going to bother us for a while," said Barry to the group. "Now, anyone got any ideas?"

Ahas raised a finger and opened his mouth wide. "I..."

At that moment a small thundercloud appeared a foot above his head and a mini lightning bolt struck the floor in front of him, blasting him backwards and through the double doors of a nearby inn.

(OOC edit: I'm on holiday for a few days pretty soon. Hope to be back Sunday. I'll catch up when I get back^^)

Reuben looked up at the storm cloud and then at the spot where Ahas had gone flying through the doors of an inn.
"You weren't lying when you said that." He muttered as he went to go help him up.

Meanwhile, within a dark fortress hidden away in the Dark Mountains of the Darkanian region, the events in Nestig are being observed by a dark figure with a dark purpose. He wore a dark helmet obscuring his face, and a dark suit of armour branded with a spider, with a dark cloak attached to the shoulder pads.
"Typical. You send a dragon into a vastly populated city to create some chaos, waiting for any heroes to make their appearance known to you, and what do you get? Some lunatics who couldn't slay a dragon if they had a...oh, I don't know, some sort of dragon slaying equipment," the dark figure mused.
"And that dragon's not helping. Get some squishing done, you reptillian...rapscallion!" he shouted into his viewing crystal.
The dark figure snapped his fingers. Two small figures emerged from the darkness. One of them wore robes and carried a little book of spells. The other wore chainmail and carried a small sword. These were Wingus and Dingus, the dark figure's trusted minions.
"You called sir?" asked the one in robes.
"Indeed I did Wingus," the dark figure replied. "Remind me to find some more insults beginning with the letter 'R'."
"Find some more insults beginning with the letter 'R'," said the one in chainmail.
"No Dingus, I meant remind me later," the dark figure sighed. "And find me another dragon agent. The one I have now's no good at all."
"Yes sir!" said the minions in unison.
"I don't know. Where did I go wrong? I dressed up in black materials, I swore myself to evil, I aligned myself with a spider god..." the dark figure was interrupted in his rambling when he fell over a chair.
"Turn that blasted light on!" he ordered. "It's getting impossible to see in here."
Wingus used a little fire spell to light the candles around the room. The dark figure rose.
"That's better. Anyway, as I was saying, I aligned myself with a spider god, I established a landwide network of evil agents, I set a dragon out to destroy things. And for what? Nothing, that's what!"
The dark figure sat on his throne. "Still, at least I haven't been attacked by any heroes yet. Not that it will bother me when I am, for I shall crush them with my incredible fist! And an evil army if need be! For I am destined to be ruler of this land, and I will achieve this goal."
The dark figure rose from the throne. "For I am Devastro, lord of evil and chaos! Let those who walk the path of good fear my name, for it will be their death!"
Devastro pondered this. "Well, their death shall not be caused by my name as such, but dead shall they be nevertheless if they cross me!"
Devastro let out an evil laugh, one that echoed around the Dark Mountains, frightening off some birds and a mountain goat.

Lena looked at the dragon and then back at the group.
"Well, what do we do now, you said something about a destractus spell or whatever, where can we get one?"

"A De-struct-us spell, and there's one in this book. But I can't get it open withour releasing its magic lock," exlained Barry, demonstrating his inability to open the notebook.
"Per-" Ahas started. Barry quickly grabbed him and stuck his hand over Ahas' mouth.
"Unless you want to get struck down again, I advise you keep quiet," said Barry. Ahas nodded his understanding.
"Good. Now don't worry everyone, because I have a backup plan. If I remember correctly from my 'Mythical Beast' classes, one way of smiting dragons is to hit them in their weak spot. Somewhere between the scales if I'm not mistaken. Reuben, if you fire an arrow at exactly 65 degrees from over there," he pointed to a collection of oil barrels a short distance from the dragon, "then you can rupture its skin. Then Lena, you rush it from behind and start tearing some scales off. That ought to make it fly away. I'll stay here behind this fountain and supervise. Okay, break!"

"Certainly, easy." Reuben walked nobly up to the oil barrels and then got into position, aiming carefully he released and they all watched as it shot up into th air and landed inches away from a cat, which spooked it and it went flying into the air with a yowl, leaping ontop of a stall and sending a small knife flying through the air to thunk into the side of a post, slashing through a rop and dropping a load of apples ontop of a shovel sent a a stick flying towards the dragin and hit it in its weak spot.
"Ur...that was meant to happen." Said Reuben quickly.

"How in the seven...I mean, good work Reuben! Now Lena, go!" Barry shouted from behind the fountain, using Ahas as a human shield.

"Just because I'm part dog does not been I'll do everything you say. Say please."
"Fine please now hurry!"
"Thankyou."
Lena charged at the dragon and then leapt into the air, raking where the stick had struck, slashing and tearing before she leapt off and returned to the others.
"There," she said, panting slightly, "It isn't too hard to use your manners."

"Yes yes, sorry, manners are important, always say please and thank you even in an emergency, thank you very much, most kind and generous of you," Barry rattled off unenthusiastically. Lena gave him a look. Barry sighed.
"Look, I really am sorry. I know I should have said please. It's just that with the dragon being right there and everything, didn't really seem necessary. But you're right, manners aren't hard to use. I guess growing up as a wizard means you don't develop good people skills," he shrugged.
Ahas mumbled something urgently, and pointed at the dragon. Barry and Lena looked to see Reuben running towards them, and the dragon turn its head to look at them.
"Ow. That hurt."
The dragon achieved flight, and spun around to meet them.
"That's not fair at all, you know. Attacking me from behind. That's cowardly. Whatever happened to stabbing dragons in the heart with magic swords? Or using 'Dragon's Bane'?"
The company exchanged looks.
"Well, we didn't have a magic sword," Reuben pointed out.
"Or 'Dragon's Bane'," added Lena.
"Well, you should have gone on a quest to find one. I would still have been here when you came back."
The dragon sighed. "If I didn't need to get this wound looked at, I'd teach you a lesson here and now. If we should happen to meet again, then I hope you will have learned the proper conduct."
And with that, the dragon took to the air and flew off towards the mountains.

"They beat it?!"
The sound of Devastro's anger echoed around the fortress. He'd watched the defeat of the dragon, and was not happy.
"They beat it?! They managed to beat a 5000 year old dragon!? But that's impossible! That dragon told me he could only be stopped by..."
Devastro froze in horror. "Oh no. That's all I need. Heroes."

(OOC: I'm back all^^)

"What a tremendous, incredulous and stupendous day!" cheered Ahas as the shadow of the Dragon dissapeared over the horizon. "I do believe we should all be congratulated and appreciated for our heroic, fantastic and otherwise expertly crafted tacftics!"

"But you didn't do anything." muttered Lena, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course I did, my dear!" replied Ahas with a flourish. "It was my charismatic and noticable prescence that inspired you great and noble people to achive the amazing feats of bravery and strength that you hithertoo have accomplished! Now, may I be so bold, brave and forward as to sugest we celebrate this event with a drink? A fellow friend and comrade of mine from the L.L.L.L. owns a beutiful quaint little bar on the outskirts of town where I can guarrentee free beer and a warm reception!"

Now it was Barry's turn to raise his eyebrows. "I thought you said you were the only L.L.L.L. member in the city!" he quizzed.

"No my good fellow, I most certainly can assure you that I did not." replied Ahas. "It happened to be the narator who..." Now hold on a minute, you can't pin this on me!

"On the contrary my good sir, it was your narative work in the introduction that led the the misconception about my singularity of nature in this fair city."

No I didn't! Take a look yourself!

"It sure looks like it was you to me..."

You stay out of this Barry! Ahas, I'm telling you, it was you that said that!

"I am afraid you happen to be mistaken. I clearly remember, recall and..."

Ok, ok shut up! So I made a mistake! Just carry on the story already!

"Thank you good, felicitous and noble sir." replied Ahas with a bow, then he turned and looked expectantly at the others, awaiting their responce to his suggestion.

Lena looked up at the sky to talk to the narrator.
"Just one question if you help the story, why didn't you find a companion with a magical sword or dragons bane, we might have actually defeated it better as in it won't come back?"

That's what makes it more interesting, you can't have me practically gift wrapping victory for you can I?

"You could but fine, be that way, difficult narrator."

Hey, would you rather be a were turkey?

"Not really no."

Then I'd stop complaining if I were you.

"Okay okay. Fine." She sighed, "Why is it that whenever we have stories where you can talk to the narrator that it's always a narrator who likes to have fun."

Because we narrators are a sadistic people. Anyway...
"Well, I don't know about everyone else, but I could do with a drink," Barry rubbed his hands together.

Reuben nodded,
"Drinks all round I say, a true way of celebration!"
"Who knows, maybe it will improve your aim." muttered Lena.
"Hey! My shooting isn't THAT bad. Really, it isn't." He decided to ignore the unelieving looks from the others and looked around, hunting for a bar or pub of sorts.

At this point a short Irishman sat at the North Pole with 110 tins of dried sweetened strawberries and 3 glasses of wine, coughed loudly several times then downed a whole two liters of spring water on one gulp!

But needless to say, because of the immense distance, this even had no effect whatsoever on the happenings in Nestig City.

"Most excellent and wonderful!" exclaimed Ahas, grinning. "The inn and hotel that my associate and friend owns is just hither, yon and this way." He set off at pace, the others falling into step behind him.

It took them less than 20 minutes to reach the inn, and would have taken much less had Ahas remembered the way. Eventually though they stepped through the door and into the warm, cozy atmosphere of the pub.

"Davidson-Charlie-Mozart-Powell-Robertson!!!" cried Ahas loudly. A rather old man with glasses and thin grey hair looked up in shock, spilling the beer he was currently pouring all over the floor.

"Ahasuerus-Romwell-Knight-Knight-Baldrick?" he exclaimed. "Is it, could it possibly be, might it maybe perhaps be you, yourself???" He spotted Ahas stood in the door and came running out from behind the bar, and the others noticed the same black and gold robes of the L.L.L.L. on his thin frame. "Oh my word, exclamation and suprise, this is a great, fantastic and onderful day!" he cried, running over and embracing Ahas in a bear hug.

"Indeed and how truly!" agreed Ahas. "My good friend, associate, fellow, and brother in location, I have a request, favour and question that I would ask of yourself. My good friends that you see here before you, all noble knights every one, are rather tired and thirsty, as indeed I myself also happen to be. I would hearby request, require and ask that we may be supplied with drinks, supplies and refreshments from your..."

As Ahas was speaking two men carrying a rather large and heavy wardrobe appeared at the top of the stairs and began to carefully step down. Suddenly the man at the bottom lost his grip and the large item of furnature began to slide down the stairs. It ploughed right into the two L.L.L.L. members, knocking them both backwards into the wall of the inn.

"Buwahahahahahahahahaha! Two in one shot! Oh, mercy!" Barry laughed, pointing and grabbing his sides, which meant for a moment he had three arms. This sort of thing is common among magic users who don't pay attention to what they are doing. If they're not careful they unconsciously cast spells on themselves.
He then noticed that people were looking at him.
"I mean, oh no, poor Ahas and what's-his-name, what a terrible accident to have happened," he said in a monotonous tone. He then noticed the third arm. "Oh wait, are you guys looking at me because of this thing, or the sadistic laughing thing? Ah, it doesn't matter. Let me just get rid of this," Barry pulled at the arm and then let go, causing it to shoot back into his body.
"Right, that takes care of that," he smiled. "Hey old guy, I'm going to steal some drinks, that okay with you?"
There was a mumbling from behind the wardrobe.
"Great, thanks," said Barry, walking towards the bar. "Don't worry, I'm not actually stealing anything," he explained to the onlooking crowd of drunkards. "Me and my comrades over there are just taking a well-deserved drink after a hard day of dragon-slaying. Well, dragon-moving anyway."
He looked at the drink selection. "Don't you have anything non-alcolic?" he asked. "I'm a wizard, or something remotely close to being one at any rate. I can't have alcohol. Unless you've got a spell-proof room we can sit in."
Barry looked over to Lena and Reuben. "Well don't stand on ceremony guys. Come on, we deserve something after our heroic deed today."
"Our?" Lena questioned.
"Yeah, what did you do apart from hide behind a fountain?" added Reuben.
"Look, do you want to debate on supposed acts of cowardice, or do you want a free drink?" Barry asked.

All of a sudden, a rather flustered-looking figure in scuffed, scorched robes burst through the doors, puffing and panting.
'And just WHAT exactly do you think you are doing!?' the figure demanded of the heroes gathered in the bar of the inn.
'Especially without ME!? What, my writer goes away for a few days and you just... ABANDON me, like some sort of...sort of... some sort of THING that isn't allied with an unimaginably, hideously powerful indestructible death god from space!?'
The small band (They're always bands, never groups or entourages or parties, as per code 1.2.36.7 of the Quester code, of course) of heroes looked at each other quizically, trying to ponder between them who this interloper could possibly be.
'The hell are you?' someone yelled, it may have been one of the band, it could be a random drunk, it's almost completely moot.
'WHO AM I!? Why, I am Y'iglastharha of the--'
'Oh, right, you. You're the bumbling one who pretends to be tough and brave but is an absolute coward with no apparent abilities, skills, or favorable attributes and will slow us down at every turn and be used in a decoy in all our plans before eventually redeeming yourself to us at the eleventh hour when all seems hopelessly lost with some untold power or incredibly brave and selfless act, right?'
Said the man who appeared to be the leader of the party, I think it was the wizard, yes, I'm almost positively sure it was, although I had had a few drinks, so I wasn't entirely sure.
'Yeah, pretty much. That's what it says on my job description and everything' Yig replied, flashing a resumee that proved this to be true.
'So what brings you here?'
'I'm joining your ragtag band of heroes on your quest, whether you like it or not. It's quite hard for a demon-worshipping cultist with no practical job experience to find work, you know. You.... ARE going on a quest, right? I mean, the word 'Quest' is right there in the title and all, and there was some earlier mention of an evil overlord of some sort.'
'Yeah, we'll get around to it eventually.'
'Oh, well I guess that's acceptable. I could use a drink anyway. So... where are we?' He asked, leaving the end of this section of the story open either for a quick recap of the situation or a completely new outlandish stranger to wander in and introduce themselves nonchalantly as if these sorts of things happened all the time, which they invariably did.

But unfortunately for Yig, the completely new outlandish stranger was on vacation, and the narrator couldn't be bothered typing a recap.

Ahas had by now extracted himself from behind the wardrobe and was glancing hesitantly inside it, wondiring if it may be a magic wardrobe leading to another world like a film he had heard about that was due out at the cinemas soon. Descovering that it was only your average item of bedroom furnature, he sighed dissapointedly and moved over to the bar where the others were congregating.

"So my fellows, comrades and good friends, what exactly is this quest we speak of? I would be rather interested and curious to learn the details of the event!"

Lena looked at the drinks selection, completely ignoring the comments goign around her, she found w2hat she was after and pulled it out from behind a bottle of alchohol of some sort and sat down at a table.
"Right, you can talk, I shall drink and listen that good for you? Not waiting for a reply the werewolf sat down, noticing that a few people in the room edged a little further away from her. She poored out the slightly thick looking red liquid into the glass she'd plucked out, rolling her eyes at the looks of horrer on several faces around the room she said in an exasperated voice.
"Its NOT blood, sheesh, its only half melted slushie, I get it brought in, I normally come at night though, not too many people STARING that are sober enough to stare at me for long without falling over."

Before anybody else could speak, an old man walked into the inn. Normally this would not have been anything to get excited about, but since he was wearing dark robes that covered all of his body, and he carried a walking stick headed with a golden eagle, he seemed important enough to take notice of. That and the fact that there was suddenly a storm outside where previously it had been a nice day, suggested to all concerned that something dramatic was going to happen.
"Who stopped the dragon?" the old man asked, in a voice both deep and powerful.
The band packed up their instruments and left through the back door. Nobody was going to listen to them tonight.
The band we are more concerned with looked at each other. They were all thinking the same thing. Should they reveal themselves to this man? Was he friend or foe? Why had it suddenly got dark outside?
"I look for they that defeated Sestinari," the old man continued. "That was the name of the dragon," he explained to the sea of blank faces. "They are needed for a quest most important."
"Just out of curiosity, what would this quest involve?" asked Barry.
"Defeating a dark lord and saving all of Destra," answered the old man.
"Oh really? A few more questions. Is there a reward?"
"Yes."
"Will it be dangerous?"
"Most assuredly?"
"Hmm. That makes this last question the most important of all," Barry took a deep breath, to add to the suspense. "Would the people taking this quest, or more importantly their leader, be able to make use of you for information and supplies, more specifically your cane?"
The old man considered this. "If it would help them, I suppose," he replied finally.
"Excuse us a second," said Barry, ushering the band into the next room. After a short moment he came out again, grabbed Yig by the arm and dragged him in too.
"Sorry, forgot about you for a minute there," he said. "Well team, what d'ya reckon?"

"To be sure, I know nothing and not a jot about a Dragon!" exclaimed Davidson in suprise. The others looked at him a moment, then Reuben sighed.

"Barry you grabbed the wrong L.L.L.L. member." he said.

Barry blinked in suprise. "Darn, I just looked at the robe. Sorry man." With that he pushed Davidson out the door and round to behind the bar, grabbed a rather bemused Ahas by the arm and pulled him into the back room with the others.

"Okay let's try that again." he muttered. "Well team, what d'ya reckon?"

Lena slurped the last of her slushie and paused, thinking, then,
"Well, it might make it easier for me to get around towns without people throwing crosses at me if I'm classed as a hero or hero helper so I'm in." Setting her glass down she continued, "And besides, I couldn't let you lot walk into some terrible danger, you'd all end as rabid pygmy squirrels or something."

We interrupt this exciting display of decision making to bring you this update from the Dark Mountains...

"Minions, come over here!"
Wingus and Dingus ran towards their dark lord, both eager to be of use.
"What do you wish, Lord Devastro?" they asked in unison.
Devastro cringed. "Minions, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times-you know, I've never understood that saying. If I've only told you once, then how can that translate as being said a thousand times? Ah well, no matter-that you must never speak in unison in my presence! It is most annoying."
"Yes sir," said Wingus
"Yes sir," said Dingus, after waiting for a short moment.
"Now, to business. I believe I recognise that man in the viewing crystal. Fetch me my copy of Who's Who: The Questing Edition."
"Right away sir," Wingus saluted, and yet to get the book.
"At once sir," Dingus saluted, and followed his twin.
"And stop being so eager!" Devastro shouted after them. "You're supposed to be evil! Eagerness isn't very evil!"
The dark lord sighed. Wingus and Dingus were not very good in the ways of being bad. He would throw them out if it weren't for the fact that they were usually efficient. Plus, it helped to have a few idiots around you. It made the enemy underestimate your cruelty, right up to the point where you stabbed him in the back.
"Here's the book sir," said Wingus, who along with Dingus was carrying said book. There have been and still are many people involved with questing in Destra, so a Who's Who has to be written with very thin paper, and even then it takes two midget minions to carry it successfully.
"Thank you lackeys," sadi Devastro, taking the book of their hands and flicking through the pages. "Old men...old men...here we are! Now let's see...aha! It's him! I thought as much!"
"Then why did you look in the book sir?" asked Dingus.
"Dingus, you dolt! I had to confirm it, you dunderheaded doofus!" Devastro cried dramatically, showing off his usage of insults beginning with D. "And with this confirmation, I know that it is...him!"
"Not...him, sir?" Wingus asked nervously. "Not the one who used to be a great hero?"
"Yes, the one who used to take on five ogres before breakfast each day, kill ten villains with ease, and take on the strongest of bloodthirsty warriors without so much as getting a stain."
"You mean...him? The one who is now a mighty sage?" asked Dingus anxiously.
"Yes, the one who has a thousand strategies in his head at any given time, knows every detail about a person with a single glance, and can tell the difference between ale and imitation ale."
"Not..." said the minions in unison. Devastro gave them a glare, and they shrugged apologetically.
"Yes, he who was the mightiest warrior in youth, and is now the wisest sage. The great hero...Doug!"
"Doug!" the twins cried in terror. Devastro paced the room worriedly.
"Hmmm, this was not foreseen. Were it merely the idiot brigade I would be okay. But if they band with Doug...it would ruin my plans. He must be destroyed."
Devastro sat on his throne. "I shall need some help."

OOC: I'm going to be on holiday for quite some time. Internet access is most unlikely, so I won't be able to keep up with the RP.
What I've done is give any newcomers the chance to join with the Questers or Devastro. If you wish to align with evil, just mention that Devastro summoned you or something in your introduction.
Regular RPers, feel free to continue with what we're already doing. Also, if you are tempted by the dark side, go ahead and make an evil character for yourselves.
Take care, and see you in September.

(OOC: Okey dokey Allik We'll try to keep it going. Enjoy your holiday^^)

IC:

A short while after last post:

Devastro stared at the machine, grinning wildly (although the grin couldn't be seen beneath his helmet). "Is it ready?"

Wingus and Dingus, now unable to speak in unison, had found another way of communicating: By finishing off each other's sentances.

"Yes..."
"sir..."
"it..."
"is."

Devastro found that annoying too, but right now he was far too excited about his latwest invention to care. "Excellent!" he crooned. "Throw the switch!"

"Where do you..."
"want it thrown, sir?"

"You fools, I mean flick it! Activate it! Whatever, just DO it!"

The lackeys nodded and, grabbing the switch, flicked it to the on position.

Massive cogs rattled into life, and huge pistons began to pump up and down as the machine fired up. In front of all the huge mechanisms stood an arched portal, in which a curious swirling light was beginning to form!

"Excellent!" laughed Devastro as the light increased. "This machine will cross the boundaries between dimentions and call over the evilest supervillans from their worlds to come and assist me here, and since it's all made from recycled tin cans, it only cost peanuts to build!"

"The first villan..."
"is coming through sir!"

Slowly a figure began to form in the swirling light, roughly humanoid, but with the biggest head you ever saw! The shadow became more pronounced, then the figure stepped out of the light, and it became clear that the large head was actually one of the biggest afros you ever saw.

The man was about six feet tall, his afro pushing it to over 13 feet, and had a thin build. His eyebrows were bushy, and he wore a rather scruffy goatee on his chin. He wore luminous orange flares and a waistcoat of the same color. His hair was black, but turned a dull grey by the masses and masses of dandruf in it.

"Records say his name..."
"is The Snowman sir." said Wingus and Dingus, looking at the computer readout.

"My name is NOT The Snowman!" retorted the figure angrily. "I am Mister Explosive!"

"Mister Explosive huh?" echoed Devastro. "I like! How would you like to help me out with a slight hero problem?"

Explosive shrugged. "Sure, I got nothing better to do."

"Excellent!" cried Devastro. "But remember one thing..." he took a long, deep breath. "...I am your father!"

Explosive fixed him with a puzzled look. "What?"

Devastro was also confused. "Good question, what's that supposed to mean?" He reached behind his back and pulled out a pile of paper, which he began to flick through. "It says it here in my script!

VADER: I am your father!

LUKE: (screaming) NOOOOOOOOO!

VADER: Search your feelings, you know it to be true!

Ah, dang, someone looked at my outfit and gave me the wrong script again!!!" He turned to look behind the cameras towards the director's chair. "I'm Devastro, you idiots, not Darth Vader!"

"What do we do now then?" asked Explosive, raising an eyebrow.

"I dunno. I learned the wrong script, so I don't know what to do here."

"Wing it. Just try to think what a Dark Evil Dictator would say in this situation."

"Okay, I'll try. Let's see...how about: "Go forth and defeat the heroes! Leave none alive!""

"Ooh, nice one! Will-do sir!"

Mister Explosive turned and left the room at a jog.

============================================================

Back at the bar (which would actually involve going back in time a little, since there was no gap between the last bar post and this, whereas there is a gap between the last dark tower post and this...)

"Tis an unusual, supprising and very rare occasion that fate does throw up such a challenge and oppertunity to such brave and noble and yet unseen and missunderstood folks such as ourselves!" exclaimed Ahas loudly. "I say we grab hold and capture this moment as fast, quick and speedily as we possibly can, and say yes, nod, affirmative and indeed to the mission!"

"I shall join this quest for glory and show what a true hero I am." Cried Reuben bravely, deciding to show off by tossing and twiriling his bow in the air, but only managed to clout himslef on the head.

"Okay." nodded Barry, and he headed for the door, the others following him.

As they stepped back into the bar the old man who had spoken to them earlier was sat in the corner of the room, a pint in his hand, laughing and flirting with the barmaids along with some of the pub's regulars. As he saw the group emerge he quickly stood up, straigtened his robes and assumed his standoffish deminour again.

"After much careful, quiet and contemplative deliberation, discussion and conferance we, us and..." started Ahas boldly.

"We're in." interrupted Barry, stepping in front of the Elf and accidentally knocking him backwarsds onto the floor. "What do we do?"

The figure nodded his head sagely, then removed the herb from his hair and nodded normally. "Excellent!" he muttered.

Reuben rubbed his head and decided he had to work out a new 'show off' routine that actually served its purpose and didn't hurt.
Reuben pushed the thought to the back of his mind and turned to 'the guy'.
"Well?" He asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

OOC: I'm back! Howdy!

IC: "Well what?" asked the old robed man. "I'm an old man, I have no time for your silly antics. Now come, we must be away at once! Already I feel a great sense of despair inside my body. That can only mean the evil one is preparing his evil plans."
The old man felt his stomach. "Wait a minute, I'm mistaken. It's actually something much more urgent. Wait here."
The old man ran as best he could to the lavatory. After a fairly long pause he re-emerged.
"One piece of advice kids. Never get old," the old man warned.

(OOC: Welcome back Allik )

"Most decernedly, assuredly and certainly so." replied Ahas as he stood up, rubbing his behind where it impacted on the hard wood of the floor. "Now where, if I may inquire and ask, are we directed, headed and setting off for?"